


The Warbler

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, sebastian is a flirty brat, waiter chandler, waiter hunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of all the place Hunter could've gotten a job at, why did he opt for BreadstiX? Working the tables aren't all it's cracked up to be. What with preppy school boys, nosy co-workers, and Mallori; working at Wal-Mart's starting to look a lot more appealing than it did three weeks ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warbler

Hunter really doesn’t get why BreadstiX is so popular. The food isn’t all that good, the service is terrible - hell, it  _just_  barely passed the health inspection. Maybe it’s because there’s not an Olive Garden within miles of Lima. He really doesn’t care; he gets paid either way. Hunter drums his fingers against the podium, patiently waiting for the next set of customers to come in.

"-I can’t believe it was a draw! We should’ve won. It’s a conspiracy, I swear!" he can hear them even from inside the restaurant. "Man, I can’t stand those girls."

The speaker is a smartly-dressed blond - a Dalton Academy Warbler, Hunter notes dully. He can tell from the uniform. He’s heard about them. His little sister, and all of her annoying friends from Crawford Day, practically worship them. He’s pretty sure Isabella has a shrine dedicated to one of them in her closet - not that he snoops around his little sister’s closet or anything.

"Well," says one of the blond’s friends. "At least we’re going to Nationals."

"Hi, welcome to BreadstiX!" he interrupts, schooling his features into a pleasant smile. "Table for how many?"

"Uh……How many of us are there?" the blond scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "There’s Thad, David, Nick, Flint-"

"-Eighteen," a smooth voice intervenes as another Warbler steps forward."Sorry about that. Jeff here isn’t the fastest counter out there."

"It’s fine. Let me just get your menus…….," Hunter trails off, somewhat awestruck by the boy in front of him.

The Warbler is handsome - very handsome. He can feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he quickly  begins to count out the menus in a feeble attempt to conceal the unattractive flush coloring his skin.

"Er……Follow me," Hunter wills the blush to go away when he looks up. "Right this way."

It takes three tables to get all of the Warblers situated. Yet another reason why BreadstiX is so terrible; there aren’t very many large tables. Hunter taps his foot impatiently while he waits for them to get settled. 

"What can I get you to drink?" he asks. 

"Coke!"

"Sprite!"

"Do they have Dr Pepper?"

"I thought we discussed this. Everyone needs to get water; I don’t think we have enough money pay for eighteen soft drinks. It’s expensive!"

"Stop being such a tight ass, David."

"Yeah!"

"Fuck you, Thad."

"Ooooh! David just cussed!"

Hunter can already feel a migraine coming on. Where the hell are the other waiters? He shouldn’t have to face this alone. He shoots a fellow co-worker a pleading look, only to be dismissed with the wave of a hand. What an asshole.

"Alright," Hunter attempts to quiet them down "How about I go table by table?"

Things go by much smoother after that. Nearly twenty minutes pass by the time he gets to the attractive Warbler’s table.

"Now, what can I get you?"

"Whatever’s the easiest for you," the brunette says charmingly. "Surprise me."

This Warbler is definitely Hunter’s favorite. He quickly scribbles down the order and moves onto the next one. He can feel the the Warbler staring at his back and resists the urge to squirm. 

"I’ll be right back with your drinks," he manages, hands fumbling with the notepad as he clumsily puts it away.

Hunter mentally scolds himself. He’s being paid to act professional - well as professional as you can be in Lima, that is - and that was definitely not professional. Whether the guy was checking him out or not, he shouldn’t have choked the way he did.  _Good Lord, Hunter. It’s like you’ve never been checked out before._

"Hey Hunter," calls one of his co-workers. "What was all that about?"

"All of what about?" Hunter lies through his teeth. _Maybe if I pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about, he’ll go away._

"You know, the whole deer-caught-in-the-headlights look you had on your face when you were talking to those prep school kids. What was all that about?"

_Or not._

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," Hunter can feel the tips of his ears grow red. Well, shit. 

"Does Hunter have a crush?" he coos, poking his cheek playfully. "Yes, he does. Yes, he does!"

"Shut up, Chandler!" 

The blond-haired waiter smirks, reaching over to take a look at the notepad. He continues to tease Hunter as they fill the order, further embarrassing the younger boy. Between the two of them, they manage to get all of the drinks in record time. As they walk out, Chandler leans over to whisper in his ear.

"It’s the tall smirky one, isn’t it?"

"No!" Hunter scowls. "……….Maybe."

"I thought so," Chandler whispers. "Get some, Clarington!"

He nudges Hunter toward the attractive Warbler’s table with a grin, nearly sending him sprawling. The Warbler raises a brow, an amused smile on his face. Hunter gives his friend a dirty look - a look that screams  _you’re going to die a gory, gruesome death. Preferably one that involves a butcher knife._

"Sprite, Coke, Dr Pepper, Water, Sprite," Hunter lists as he passes out the drinks, hesitating when he gets to the last drink for the table."I got you a root beer, is that alright?"

The attractive Warbler gives him a charming smile, “Perfect.”

He can feel his cheeks turning pink again. Why the hell is he getting so flustered? Hunter Clarington doesn’t do all of that blushing virgin shit, dammit!

"Nice to know,  _Hunter._ ”

Hunter blinks in surprise, how did he know his na - shit. He must have spoken out loud. That’s just fan-fucking-tastic. From the corner of his eye, he can see Chandler suppressing a laugh as he passes out the rest of the drinks.

"This is awkward," Jeff murmurs to his friend. "Like, really awkward."

"I know," the brunette whispers back. "I feel like we should give them a moment, but I can’t look away."

Hunter forces himself to calm down before he has, like, a heart attack or something. The attractive Warbler is still staring at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Soooooo," Hunter’s going to have to remember to thank Chandler later. "What can I get you to eat?"

With the Warblers’ attention successfully diverted, Hunter manages to find the ability to speak again. 

"Sorry about that," he apologizes.

"Don’t be. Lots of people find themselves at a lost for words when they’re around me," the attractive Warbler winks. "I’m Sebastian by the way."

Oh, he’s that kind of person. Pretty to look at, but a pain in the ass to be around. It’s not too bad. Yeah, no. Hunter doesn’t do that shit.

"…..’s not attractive," he comments, mostly to himself.

"What was that?"

"Your narcism. It’s not attractive."

"Neither’s talking to yourself."

"What was that? I couldn’t hear you over your douchebaggery."

"Okay, Hunter!" Chandler interrupts. "Why don’t you go over there? I’m sure Mallori could use some help."

Hunter scowls darkly, giving Sebastian one last glare before walking off. He needs to cool off, take a breather - anything to get him away from the attractive-gone-asshole Warbler. It’s weird really. How the hell did he go from ogling at Sebastian to nearly punching his pretty little face in? 

"Hey Miss Mallori," he gives her a pleasant smile. "Need any help?"

The elderly woman beams, “That would be great. Do you mind taking this out to table seven?”

She gestures toward the tray in her hands. Hunter takes it with ease, quickly making his way toward the booth. He gives the couple a charming smile before giving them their food. He doesn’t really know what it is, but he’s not entirely sure he wants too. He returns to the kitchen, where Chandler is listing off the Warblers’ orders to the chef. As soon as he see Hunter, the blond excuses himself and walks toward him.

"What the hell was that?" he demands, hands on his hips. "You almost had him!"

"He was being an asshole," Hunter shrugs. "You know how I feel about self-centered people like that."

"You don’t get it, do you?" Chandler sighs, reaching up to massage his temples. "He was flirting with you."

"No, I’m pretty sure he was being a douche."

"Who has more experience with boys?"

"You do."

"And who here has a boyfriend?"

"You do."

"Exactly, I know my stuff."

"So, you’re an expert now."

"Uhuh."

"So, what do I do?" Hunter questions. 

"I don’t know," Chandler blinks. "Why are you asking me? You’re the one he’s flirting with."

Hunter wants to bang his head against the wall - multiple times - as he watches the blond walk away. It’s official. He’s doomed to die alone. 

"Hunter!" Mallori calls. "I could use a hand."

Yup, definitely dying alone. He makes quick work of the rest of Mallori’s orders, rolling his eyes as he listens to her gush about how helpful he is. Is this how other people lives are? Or is it just his? 

"Hunter!" he looks up at the sound of his name. "Give Chandler a hand, would you? There’s no way he can manage that all by himself."

Hunter wordlessly takes the serving tray that’s offered. He has the one that goes to Sebastian’s table. What a coincidence. He stiffly makes his way over to the table, mindful to not make eye contact with the Warbler. It doesn’t take long for him to serve all of the dishes - except for one. 

"Here," he unceremoniously places it front of Sebastian, ignoring Chandler’s disapproving look.

"Thanks," Sebastian mutters. 

"Welcome."

He waits for Chandler to finish serving the rest of the Warblers, fingers drumming against his leg. He’s terribly self-conscious of how Sebastian’s staring at him. It’s a thoughtful, calculating stare. As soon as his friend finishes, he makes to leave but finds that he can’t - Sebastian had grabbed onto his wrist

"What…..?"

Sebastian only gives him a smile as he slips something into his hand.  _Please don’t be his phone number, please don’t be his phone number._

He doesn’t check until he gets back to the kitchen. Chandler peers over his shoulder curiously as he unfolds the small piece of paper.  _Please don’t be his phone number, please don’t be his phone number._

"Hey! He gave you his number!"

Well fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt - Sebastian keeps flirting with the new waiter (Hunter) at a restaurant, but the new waiter tries to ignore him and keep working.


End file.
